


Never Never Land

by busaikko



Series: failed kinkmeme fills [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Consent Issues, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Episode: s02e10 The Lost Boys, M/M, Violent Sex, Wraith Enzyme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back before Caldwell replaced Elizabeth, before Cam was Atlantis' military commander, even before the expedition left Earth, John and Cam were together.  Even now, when everyone but John's using the Wraith enzyme, Cam remembers how it used to be.  But it's not like that now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Never Land

Sheppard's always been quiet, but his absolute silence after they all come back from Ford's gets on Cam's last nerve. It feels spiteful to him, like Sheppard's keeping secrets. They're about as sure as they can be that Sheppard's Iratus-induced allergic reaction to the enzyme hasn't muted him. Cam wishes he'd get the fuck over it.

Sheppard shakes his head _no_ when Beckett asks if he's in pain, and he's not interested in drawing pictures or writing letters – any kind of communication at all. Sheppard's team aren't bothered that much, and Caldwell's busy joining up with Ford's people to launch more guerrilla assaults on the Wraith, making Atlantis into a power to be reckoned with. Not weak like it had been under Weir. Sheppard nods amiably through meetings, laughs at jokes, and still gamely tries to learn stuff from Teyla and Ronon so he can pull his own weight. Cam's not sure McKay's even aware of Sheppard's unnatural silence: he's convinced the right balance of the enzyme makes him smarter than ever before, but it also makes him more of a self-absorbed asshole.

But in the brave new stronger-faster- _better_ Atlantis, John can't keep up. So it's natural that more and more he gets left behind.

Cam's not even sure why he keeps coming back to Sheppard, like a bad old habit he can't shake.

Thing is though, he comes back from a mission and all he wants is to find John and bury himself in him. He likes when John makes noise; it's all he gets from John these days.

Sheppard knows not to let Cam catch him where Caldwell might see and get on Cam's ass about fucking his 2IC, or where anyone else who's hopped up might think they're entitled to take a turn after Cam. That's only happened a few times, but Cam doesn't want it getting to be a habit. He doesn't like sharing what's his.

Cam finds Sheppard waiting in his room, barefoot, jacket off, and he has a stab of memory of Earth. Back when it was just the two of them being idiots, shoes off and running in the sun, him tacking Sheppard to the ground and Sheppard kissing him... That first time it was a shock and a sweetness that Cam'd give anything to find again.

Instead he tells Sheppard, "It'll be good," as he shoves him up against the nearest wall. "Like it was at the start, remember that, John?"

Under the strength of his hands, Sheppard jerks and then goes still.

"Take your pants off," Cam says, real low, mouth right next to Sheppard's ear. He bites at the lobe while Sheppard's fighting his belt and buttons, then nuzzles into Sheppard's neck to feel his pulse racing and breath coming fast, the tense anticipation that makes Sheppard still like prey.

When the pants hit the floor, Cam makes Sheppard brace himself, one arm on the wall, the other reaching back to spread himself open, guide Cam home. Sex on the enzyme is like nothing Cam could ever have imagined, like everything he'd felt before was grainy black and white and now the world's 3-D and Technicolor. Pleasure builds up in him like a thunderhead as he drives into Sheppard hard and is assailed with heat and pressure, the taste of sweat on his tongue, Sheppard's shoulder and then head hitting the wall with soft thuds, the press back of John's ass, trying to force Cam away so Sheppard has the space to breathe.

Cam gives a little, and then takes back what he gave. He likes keeping Sheppard on his toes. He waits until Sheppard's struggles seem more like a formality, like Sheppard's feeling good too, despite himself, and then drags Sheppard down to the floor. It's easier when he can spread Sheppard's legs wide and pull his shirt off. He loves watching the play of Sheppard's muscles, flexing like he's a puppet and Cam's jerking the strings.

"Look at you," he says, and his hands are digging into Sheppard's shoulders, sweat from his hair dripping down. " _Look_ at you."

Sheppard bucks under him, and Cam loves how his fingertips whiten as Sheppard tries to grab hold of the floor. Sheppard cries out, harsh, again and again, eyes staring wide and hands never stilling, and Cam's biting him before he knows it, teeth sinking in to hold Sheppard in place while he fucks him harder. The slap of slick skin against skin is almost louder than the way Sheppard grunts out _uh, huh_ each time Cam fills him. John used to call his name, and there's a ghost of that in Cam's head as the storm in him breaks, _Cam, Cam, Cameron, come on_ , and for a moment it's so blindingly good that he can forget that it used to be better.

They lay there, on the floor, spent, and Cam rolls to the side and dozes with his arm slung across John and the salt of John's blood on his tongue. The enzyme starts to wear off after a bit and that wakes Cam up, the familiar razor-sharp edge of withdrawal, irritation and loss of control filling him with anger like he was empty without it. Sheppard's still with him, curled under him on the floor. It's easy to shove into Sheppard until Cam comes again, letting orgasm taking the edge off and making him remember how good he had things now.

He can see he woke Sheppard up, but he doesn't tell him he loves him. He used to, back before, but now he doesn't want to hear what Sheppard wouldn't say.

Instead, Cam pushes himself up and fixes his clothes, being careful as he tucks his dick away. He's sore enough he has to be careful easing his boxers up. Sheppard dresses as well; Cam's glad his shirt has long sleeves, so he doesn't have to hear McKay complaining about Sheppard's bruises. The bite marks along the backs of Sheppard's shoulders will probably ache for a few days, like a reminder. Cam hopes Sheppard thinks of him often.

"I'm going to," Cam says, and swallows as Sheppard turns to look at him, a knowing look on his face. "I need more, John."

Sheppard nods, calm and easy, like it's no big deal, and Cam wants to hurt him so badly that he has to clench his fists and dig his nails into his palms. Sheppard should be raging, Cam thinks, he should _hate_ what they've both become.

But instead Sheppard gives Cam half a smile – his lip's split; there's blood on the wall – and makes a gun gesture with his hand. He mimes shooting and then stabbing a syringe into the enzyme sac, and yeah, Cam's behind the plan to go hunting, he's ready to go.

Sheppard catches his sleeve as he heads for the door, and Cam nearly shoves him away. He's glad he didn't, though, when John kisses him on the cheek, sweet, like they used to do a long time ago.

Cam doesn't kiss Sheppard, though. He's hungry for the enzyme and finds it hard to concentrate on anything else. He tells himself he'll kiss Sheppard when they get back. He'll claim Sheppard as his, do it _right_ next time, and maybe then Sheppard will start talking to him again.


End file.
